Contrasts
by Silver Ecstasy
Summary: One is tired from his routine, looking for an escape, lost in his narrow world, the other is lively, full of hopes and desires, and.. looking for a muse. What happens when the moon meets the sun? Will they learn from each other or just hurt each other? They say opposites attract each other. But in the end, are they really that different? Vaati x Link, modern AU, probably lemon.


**A/N:** This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got long on me, so if I get any readers, please bear with me. This was written while I was listening to the album "_Family Tree: The Branches"__, _by_Radical Face__. _

The following events take place in a modern alternate universe.

For _The Trailblazer._

Rain made his heart ache.

When it rained, he remembered his childhood, the warmth of his home, in his old room, surrounded by his old belongings, reading a book or playing with his imagination. He remembered winters, rainy and snowy, when he used to run outside excitedly and play with his friends. Then, it would be time for Christmas, the only time of the year when his whole family would gather and stay up celebrating until midnight, when they would open the presents. Little did they care about what they were, they enjoyed being around each other and sharing memories of the past, listening when one would play the guitar or the piano, singing along, laughing and joking. The nostalgia of the old times flooded him like the rain flooded the streets.

Above his head, the neon tube flickered. He was unpleasantly brought back to his colourless reality, his tasteless desk and his pile of files. His pale hands rested on the frigid surface of the desk while he exhaled a resigned breath. Time had passed him by like a train in motion. And now, he was the head of an insurance company… that was about to get shut down. His head hanging low, he sighed again. He was supposed to get at least five thousand more clients in two months to avoid closure. His company had been going for five years now, and he hadn't ever gotten that much clients in less than six months at least. His company was done for. He'd given it as much as a try as he could, but there were just no means, despite his offers being far more interesting than his rivals'. He was crushed by their commercial popularity and the fact that most of their head managers were corrupt sacks of shit. They had shady contracts with advertisement companies, the kind that buys your email address to sell them to others and so on. By selling their clients' email addresses they raised enough money to promote themselves even further and soon they were all over the town's billboards. He shook his head and glanced at his watch. It was nine o'clock already; about time he called it a day. He rose from his desk, not really caring about the insignificant amount of work he had gotten done on that day, picked up his black coat from the hanger and stepped out of his office. Everyone had left already, all ten of his employees. They were simple people, never causing much of a riot, and worked as hard as they could for the few clients they had. There never were any problems with them, and they proved to be overall very content with the services they offered. But because he didn't reach the required number of clients, his business was considered a hindrance to the market. He lingered, his eyes straying over the empty chairs and clear desks, before picking up his umbrella by the door and exiting the small local.

The cold winter air bit him like a snake as he unfolded his umbrella and raised it above his head, starting to head home. He didn't live far, so he never bothered to take his car to work. The pitter-patter of the rain on his umbrella started to stir his heart again, and his gaze dropped to his soaked snickers. Ever since his parents had passed away from bad health, he hadn't really felt at home anywhere. Moving from place to place didn't really bother him since he didn't feel like he belonged anywhere in particular. He felt no attachment to the places he lived in, and as for the people, he knew that the ones who truly cared would bother to keep in contact. Lost in his silent thoughts, he didn't really pay attention when he mechanically composed the code to his building's door, closed his umbrella, got on the elevator, pressed the flickering "4" button, walked to his door, unlocked it and stepped in. He turned the lights on, finally raising his head to see his frigid apartment, same as ever. He dropped the keys in the bowl on the small table near the door and went to drop on his couch, lost deep in his thoughts still. The rain grew stronger, crashing against his poorly sealed windows. A cold breeze chilled his already freezing body, and he got up again to have a burning hot shower. His apartment was cheap; there were lots of things to be redone. Way too much for him and his income. His shower leaked, there were water infiltrations in his ceiling, the floor was made of ugly cracked tiles… The list was long. He'd just given up on his idea of remodelling the place; not that he cared too much anyway. One way or another, sooner or later, he wouldn't live there anymore.

Once he had warmed up his shivering body under the irregular hot water stream, he put on some sweatpants and went to lie in his creaking bed. Images of a bright past started to dance behind his closed lids as the rain against the windows lulled him to sleep.

The following day, the office was just as cold as ever when he came in. He lazily looked over the empty desks, distractedly munching on an insipid croissant. The dull light of the morning clouded sky created a cold and dim atmosphere in the silent room. He went around the room, turning the pallid neon lights for his employees before taking refuge in his office. He dropped on his chair and went through the inspectors' letters again.

So much to do, so little time…

_9:47 PM._

Everyone had stayed late making extra calls, doing their best for the company's survival. Watching over them Link had felt a small pang in his heart. How would he go on without them? How would they go on without him? They had all bet everything on him, and he was letting them down. 

He was closing the door like he always did, his flavourless routine for the past five long torturous years.

Once he reached his sorry excuse for an apartment, he dropped down on his patched up black couch and gritted his teeth.

He had control over nothing.

He felt like everything slept through his fingers, be it his time, his life, his professional life… Nothing had neither consistency nor durability in his life. He was growing tired of having nothing to lose and never looking forward to anything. What was the purpose to keep fighting when he had nothing even worth fighting for?

He let himself fall back on the couch; head turned upwards, hazy eyes vaguely looking at the cracked ceiling. Above, the neighbours were arguing and stomping again, making tiny specks of plaster snow down on him.

Was that what was waiting for him?

An eventless routine, dull, average, colourless…

He cringed, brows furrowed in a frustrated scowl.

What was he doing? That was not the ways his parents had taught him. Such lively people… they'd shake their heads at him if they saw how pathetic and reduced to nothingness. But what could he do?

His head was a mess, for the first time in his life, he was completely lost and didn't know anything about anything anymore.

He abruptly shot up from the couch, a sour and hollow feeling invading his chest. Rushing to his room, breath short, he changed his clothes to a more casual outfit, throwing on some blue jeans, a black V-neck shirt, grey snickers and his kaki vest. He felt shaky, daring to cross the line for the first time since he was born. He stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and exited the building with a somewhat rushed pace.

"_Blue Blaze" Bar, 10:12 PM._

Vaati's eyes darted around the lively blue neon-lit room. His favourite bar was always populated with interesting enough people, though often predictable. He sat at an unoccupied table near the windows, waiting for the waitress to pass him by. From the corner of his eye he saw it was starting to rain again outside… It'd been raining a lot these days, and though it wasn't uncommon during winter it'd been enough to flood the streets with a three-centimetre layer of water the last weekend. That wasn't normal for the region. He distractedly watched the dark clouded sky, fingers tapping on the table along with the loud music's rhythm. The waitress finally came to his table, and he offered her a pleasant smile.

"Hey Vaati. Same as usual?" He shook his head. "I feel innovative today," he said, "I'm going for the _Sazerac." _She smirked. "The 'strong and weird', huh? I'll be right back." He watched her go with a light-hearted smile on his lips. He felt like celebrating today, things were going well for him at work and his hobby was bringing him more satisfaction than ever before. He was about to obtain a big contract… He smiled widely, stretching his arms above his head. He always looked for inspiration in mundane events, because that was where the heart of the people was. How would they relate to an artist that knows nothing of what it is to have to sit in an office every day and have a boring life altogether? How would he reach their ears and offer them an escape if he didn't know what sort of pain they were enduring?

And so, he had settled to find inspiration in his favourite bar for his album to come. However everyone looked pretty jolly on that day… "_Guess it's only natural if it's Friday," _he thought, eyeing the waitress who was coming his way with his drink. "There you go," she said. "Can I offer you anything else?" He shook his head. "This is enough for now, thanks." With that, she smiled and left.

He glanced down at the round glass, filled with intense orange liquid underneath the ice. His eyes glazed over as he remembered orange was his muse's favourite colour… well, ex-muse. She'd been his source of inspiration for nearly four years, before she left him on his ass. His best time had been when she'd been with him, and he was starting to get up once again just now, after two years of moping around. He sighed. His career at the start had been similar to a shooting star, fast, burning hot, and… ephemeral. He'd dropped out of school at fifteen years old to start his band, and they'd been noticed early enough. Then he met _her, _they'd been together until he was twenty, and now, with his twenty-two, he was just starting to get a grip back on his life, though he found it boring to experience alone. He'd never been much of a lone wolf, finding that having a second point of view on things was much more enlightening and entertaining.

But things being the way they were, he'd learnt to open his eyes to other things, enjoy the simpler joys of life and make the best out of any situation he found himself in, no matter how bad it seemed. That was how he won his life back, made enough money to live well, and was still climbing higher.

He took a sip from his drink, enjoying its bitterness, while distractedly looking at the people present on that rainy night. Everyone had gotten in before it started raining, and they were chattering lively for the most part. Almost all of them were familiar faces, with the exception of two middle-aged men at the back of the room and a group of three young women sitting calmly at a table nearby his. Maybe he'd been wrong to come in today, it seemed like it was going to be a pretty uneventful night…

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the door to the bar opened, making way for a soaked young man. His dirty blond hair was extremely wet, sticking to his pale gloomy face. His eyes seemed to be stuck on the floor, and his drenched clothes stuck to him as if he'd just jumped out of a pool. The allegory of depression had just walked in, and he loved it.

He'd have to find a way to break the ice.

Wisdom came with experience, experience came with mistakes, and mistakes came with pain. In terms of wisdom, that guy _had_ to be freaking Einstein. His ruby eyes followed the dripping man as the latter sat at the bar on a stool bench, back arched under the weight of his personal issues. The blond man rejected the bartender's offers, seemingly telling him 'not now'. Vaati's eyebrows raised in confusion. He'd just come in, visibly knowing none of the people present in the bar, sat at the bar and order nothing? Why'd you come to a bar if it wasn't to drink?

He was even more curious now, and got up from his sit, his drink completely forgotten. He walked over to the bar and sat next to the now shaking man. "You look like you're cold," he said easily. The other didn't raise his gaze, barely grunting in response. Vaati smiled lightly. "A drink would warm you up. What do you like?" The other obstinately looked downwards, wet bangs hiding his eyes still. "I… I don't know," he said quietly. Vaati's smile widened imperceptibly. The man's voice was smooth and its tone unusual from what he'd heard, and that was the most important trait he associated to the people he met. Therefore, to him, a boring voice meant a boring person. But he seemed to have caught an interesting fish tonight. "Well… I'll order for you then. Bartender, a _Suburban _please." The man gave him an odd look but complied anyway. He kept his gaze focussed on the blond man on his right until his drink was served and he took a sip… and immediately coughed it back. His eyes widened in surprise and the man struck at his chest with his balled up fist. "Hey are you al… Oh no, don't tell me this is your _first time drinking_?" The other man finally looked at him, revealing cerulean eyes deeper than the sea and fine harmonic features. He'd seen him from afar, but not well, and now he was taken by surprise. He totally did _not _expect such an unconventional beauty to stroll in a mediocre bar where they'd give you weird looks if you asked for a _Suburban_ all dripping and stuff. He smiled genuinely. "You're beautiful."

The other man stared at him wide-eyed, fist still against his chest. "What?" he asked, incredulous. Vaati shrugged. "What what?" he asked in return. The other one's gaze drifted sideways in embarrassment. "Why would you say that to a man is what I was asking…" he mumbled. Vaati looked at him like a cat watched its prey, ruby eyes gleaming with amusement. "Because my job taught me to see beauty no matter where it was. Men can be beautiful, too." The blond man shook his head and bravely took another sip of his drink, managing to keep it down this time. He cleared his throat. "To answer your question, it indeed is the first time I drink, and even set foot into a bar. I guess that's what people do in here though, invite other to drink to earn some distraction?" Vaati stared speechless for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. "Wow, you're terrible at human relationships, aren't you?" Expecting the other man to get offended, he smiled cunningly, but was taken aback when he just lowered his head and muttered a weak 'yeah'. His smile dropped. "Care to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked in a lower voice, comforting, his right hand on the man's freezing cold shoulder.

Many hours and drinks later, Vaati knew every aspect of the man's life. His name was Link, 28 years old, and he'd been raised in a nice environment, but lost it all when his parents passed because they hadn't written their wills and the whole heritage got seized by the state. He'd been left with nothing, forced to work countless part-time jobs to be able to afford his living expenses, making loans and borrowing from his relatives to his greatest embarrassment. Vaati's look softened the more he talked, his tongue clearly unleashed by the copious amount of alcohol he'd ingested. He was oblivious to the cold by then, and when he was done talking about how much it saddened him to have to watch his company get closed down, he fell into a lethargic silence, unaware of his shivering. Vaati was eager to talk to him again, once he was sober. He was interesting, being awkward with people but extremely honest and righteous (one could even say he was a little _too _honest), and having been through many fascinating experiences. That man was an inexhaustible source of inspiration.

"Did you come here by driving?" he asked after a few minutes of the music blasting their ears. "Yes… there are no bars near my building… I wandered around town for a bit and… _Oooh nooo…_" Vaati raised his brows inquisitively. "I can't remember where I parked…" The blonde said, fingers tangling in messy still humid hair. The other smiled brightly. "Come with me."

"_The Viewpoint" building, apartment 510, 12:23 PM._

Link shifted in the bed, the sheets providing feathery comfort, as he finally came to. Light was filtering through his lids, so he turned to be face down in the large, comfortable bed. He groaned and stretched his back arching slightly and heard a chuckle.

_A chuckle._

He jumped hard, sitting upwards violently, getting a massive ache in his head in the process and falling back down helplessly. He brought his hand to his head and turned on his side to see where the sound had come from and was horrified to discover it had been from _the man in his bed._

Though… that was not his bed. It was far too big and luxurious. He squinted his eyes, trying to keep his focus on the most important issue at hand. That man, strangely purple-haired and red-eyed, was the stranger that had come to talk to him in that bar he recalled. They'd talk for a bit and… and…

And what?

He could not remember a thing. Seeing how his guest stared blankly at him, Vaati smiled politely. "Remember me? I'm Vaati," he said. "Vaati…" the blond man repeated, his sky-clear eyes still communicating his confusion. "I brought you here yesterday because you couldn't remember where you'd park your car." A fierce blush adorably overcame the older man's cheeks. Once again, Vaati's smile increased imperceptibly. "I… I am so ashamed. My deepest apologies." Vaati waved it off like it was a swarm of annoying bugs. "Shush. If I brought you here, it's because I have no problem with it. How are you feeling?" Link glanced sideways embarrassingly. "Not so good… I guess I should learn to know how much I can take in." The purple-haired man chuckled, amused by the older male's antics. "You really can't hold your liquor…" "H-Hey! Don't… ugh, never mind." He sat there a few more seconds before finally realising he was only dressed in his underwear. This time his whole face flared red, due to him absolutely not knowing how to handle his predicament. This was all too new to him. "Uh… where are my clothes?" The paler male stood from the bed, followed by Link's gaze. "I put them to try on the balcony this morning. They are still wet, so I'll lend you something until they completely dry… Then I'll let you go." The man disappeared in the corridor connected to the room. "'_I'll let you go'?_" Link thought. "_Sounds like I'm some kind of prisoner or something…_" He soon shook the thought off however, taking advantage of his host's absence to take in his environment. The room was large, decorated with lively colours. The floor was wooden, and the wall behind the bed was a bright tone of orange. There were many flowerpots on the edge of the wall-long window on his left, and against the wall were colourful paintings of diverse things. A face, the rippling of water, a laughing little girl dressed in white, wood textures. He admired them for a bit before looking around again. The furniture there was in the room, including the bed, was made of unvarnished wood. He found it simple, but surprisingly well fitting. Everything was of such good taste next to his place… he sighed, just as his host stepped back into the room and handed him some clean clothes. Luckily, they both were approximately the same size, Link only having a few three centimetres more than the red-eyed man. "Thank you," he said softly once he had put on the grey jeans and emerald-green T-shirt. Once again, Vaati waved off his politeness. "Let's get you something to eat, whaddya think?" Link followed after his eccentric host until they were in the well-equipped but small kitchen, and sat at the table when he was told to.

It wasn't long before a plate of scrambled eggs was placed before him along with a glass of milk. Sitting in front of him in the living room (decorated similarly to the bedroom, paintings lying all around the place), Vaati sighed. "The weather really isn't letting up, huh?" Glancing towards the window, Link's eyes widened slightly. For some reason, he'd thought it was extremely sunny on that day. Was it the apartment's fresh and airy decoration? "I guess," he said. Vaati frowned inwardly. "_I have to get him to open up to me like yesterday,"_ he thought, hell-bent on becoming closer to the taller man. "Did you have any plans for today?" he asked energetically. "No… And I don't think I'd do much with this headache anyway…" Vaati almost face-palmed. Of course he'd be grumpy, he had a hangover. "Hold on." He said, standing up once again and turning to mess around in the kitchen. Link scrunched up his nose hearing the ruckus from the kitchen, trying to plug his ears. After a while, a glass of a reddish liquid was placed before him. "What is it?" He asked curiously. The eccentric male placed his hands on his hips with a confident smile. "It's a detox smoothie. Go on, drink, you'll feel better within minutes." Link complied, taking small sips at first, and after seeing how wonderful it tasted, gulped it down under Vaati's cat-like amused stare. After he was done eating, he did find indeed that his headache had been reduced to practically nothing and immediately cheered up, to Vaati's greatest pleasure.

"Why don't you tell me more about yourself, Vaati?" the blond man asked, a small smile curling his lips. "_That's more like it,"_ was what the red-eyed man thought, sitting next to him rather than in front. He spent some time explaining where he came from, why his uncle had raised him rather than his parents, how he'd dropped out of school and how painting was his main and favourite hobby. He omitted to tell him what his job was, people tended to freak out when he told them he was a pretty well-known singer known by the name of Gūfu. Link listened attentively all along, the younger man noticing a somewhat melancholic look in his eyes. When he was done, the blond was genuinely smiling, which Vaati found to be pretty soothing. "You have a really interesting story. I wish I could say so myself." Vaati shook his head. "Your story is way interesting, too. Just in a different way, you were less lucky than I've been is all." Link was glancing at the floor again, a sarcastic twitch ruining his smile. "I guess so," he said quietly. Vaati scowled. At this rate, the man would get all gloomy on him again. "So what do you feel like doing today? I know a few-" he was cut off by the other getting up. "Listen, kid," he said, his voice somewhat frigid. "There's only so much good a man can make, when he's not so good himself. But you... You remind me of what I could've been. What I _should _have been… But that reminder isn't much help. So it's better if I'm on my way…" At that, the older male smiled the saddest smile Vaati had ever seen in his entire life, and left, leaving the red-eyed man speechless on his chair, lips still parted.

"_Reminder? On his way? You've got to be kidding… How is he no good?"_

He craned his neck to look through the window, on the balcony, at Link's clothes that were still swaying in the wind.


End file.
